


His Mark

by mooneyschocolate



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Possessive!Snape, Severus Snape/Reader - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Smut, Student/Teacher, Teacher-Student Relationship, Well a little plot, multi-chapter, not much though, noticeable hickey, ofc/severus snape - Freeform, ofc/snape, professor snape/reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28177044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooneyschocolate/pseuds/mooneyschocolate
Summary: Professor Snape leaves a very dark, very noticeable hickey on your neck and forbids you to cover it up. Things blossom and feelings are had!This is a work in progress with chapters still being added!
Relationships: OFC/Severus Snape, Original female character/Severus Snape, Severus Snape/Reader, Severus Snape/Reader Insert, Severus Snape/You
Comments: 23
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

The door to the potions room slams closed and you jerk, looking up to see Professor Snape make his dramatic entrance like always. You glance across the room at your best friend Amelia, also in seventh year, and stifle a laugh. The two of you love to make fun of your Professor’s stoic nature and sharp tone. He doesn’t scare you in the way he did the rest of the class; you weren’t sure why, he just never did. Amelia makes fun of you for thinking he was dark and mysterious, always teasing you for the trope. You know it’s silly, but whenever you’re in close quarters with the dark haired man, whether it be asking questions on an assignment or having your potion reviewed, your heart always picks up speed and your hands get clammy and nervous. You have to avoid eye contact and try not to breathe his scent in too deep, otherwise you get a little lightheaded and desperate for a touch you’ve never even felt. You call yourself out on it almost daily, chastising your inner voices for even thinking of a teacher that way, constantly telling yourself to get it together.  
“I believe I asked you a question. If you would ever bother to get your head out of the clouds and pay attention in my class, I would like to know your answer” Snape’s cold, unforgiving voice snaps directly in front of you. You let out a small squeak and start to stammer, “I-I’m sorry, professor. I didn’t hear your question. What was it?”  
Sighing and retracting his hands from their current place on your desk, Professor Snape straightens and makes his way back to the front of the room. “5 points from Slytherin. You may be in my house, but I refuse to let daydreaming be permitted in my classroom.” Hearing snickers start around you, you look at Amelia and see her shrug quickly and give you an empathetic look. You resolve to pay full attention to the rest of the class and focus all your attention on Snape, now with his nose in a textbook, pacing back and forth in front of the class, reading off a list of ingredients.  
You start off well, copying the list of ingredients down on your parchment, and working through the list of conversions Professor Snape has on the board in front of the class. Soon though, your mind starts to wander and you bury your head near your parchment, pretending to focus VERY hard on memorizing the list you’ve just made. At minimum, you didn’t want to be caught this time, and besides, you were done with the work anyway.  
You let your mind go on its own, and images of your Professor fill every crevice of available space. You direct your thoughts back to your favorite fantasy: coming down to the dungeons after class one evening with the guise of looking for help on an assignment, with full intent of seducing Snape into fucking you senseless. You let it play out in your mind, eyes moving slowly over the paper in front of you to keep up your ruse. You imagine it, knocking on the classroom door and he opens it, a glare on his face, ready to tear into whoever has intruded on his personal time so late in the evening. Seeing it’s someone from his house though, his gaze softens just the teeniest amount, and he opens the door for you, beckoning you in with a jerk of his head.  
“What do you need,” he asks. He watches you step into the cold, damp dungeon classroom, and closes the door behind you.  
“Actually, Professor, I was hoping you could help me with a very specific question?”  
“Go on, spit it out, I haven’t all evening to stand here,” comes his reply.  
You step a millimeter toward him and force yourself to keep eye contact. “Well, sir, I was hoping you could offer some relief with an… issue I have been having in your class.” You let your robes fall open at this, and reveal the dark green lingerie you were hiding. You bite your lip as you look at Professor Snape for a response. He stands there, looking at your body, not saying a word. After a few uncomfortable seconds, you start to feel awkward and go to apologize, stooping to gather your robes where they had fallen from your shoulders to the floor. “I’m sorry, sir, this was innapro-” But you’re cut off as Snape grabs your jaw tightly, the pad of his thumb presses onto your bottom lip.  
“You are correct. This is highly inappropriate. I believe I will need to make sure you are punished well so this does not happen again, hm?” The words have barely left his mouth before he grabs you by your shoulder and leads you to his seat at the front of the classroom.  
Your mind reels with what you want him to do to you next. You have so many things you want to cross off the list with him. You decide on a good spanking, and as soon as the decision is made, imaginary Snape grabs you roughly and bends you over his knee. You lay there, self conscious and bare (save for your lingerie) over your professor’s lap. He has just raised his hand to bring down on you, in what you were sure was to be the hardest you have ever been hit, your core tightening and every inch of you tingling, when the sound of ruffling papers disturbs your imagery. Frowning a little, you look around to see that most of the students have vacated the room. You must have missed the dismissal.  
Quickly, you gather your books and shove them into your bag, not wanting to be the last in the room, especially with your growing want for the professor currently making you worried you may have left a spot on your chair. You decide to sneak a glance in the man’s direction, and have to stifle a gasp as you realize Professor Snape is already looking at you, eyes locked on your every movement. You notice his eyes flick down you for barely a millisecond. If you had blinked, you would have missed it. In fact, when you do blink and look at him again, his eyes are back down on the papers on his desk, no hint he had ever even noticed you. You head for the door and out of curiosity, turn back, only to see him shifting in his chair, looking rather uncomfortable.


	2. Chapter 2

Rubbing your eyes, you yawn and stretch from your seat in front of the fire in the cold, dark, common room. You glance around the room at the few straggler students like yourself, who are still slaving over unfinished homework. You sigh heavily and glance at the small clock that sits on the side table next to your seat. It’s just about 11pm, and curfew has been in place for a solid hour. Looking over the parchments strewn about on the floor in front of you and all over your lap, you decide you’ve done enough for the night and begin to gather your things so you can head to your dorm room. Just then, you hear the flutter of wings, and look up, very confused, to see an owl with a small piece of parchment tied to his foot enter the common room. This strikes the tired students left in the room and yourself as VERY odd, as no post was ever delivered outside of the Great Hall. If you wanted your post outside of meal times, you would have to go to the Owlery and get it yourself.  
You watch in surprise as the owl swoops to rest itself on the arm of the couch you were currently seated on and presents its leg with the parchment on it to you. You look around the room and see that the other students are watching you, but with fading interest. Most of them either have too much work to do to care, or are too interested in packing up and getting to bed to watch you.  
You untie the parchment from the owl’s leg and with a last glance around the room, unroll the small note. Inside, the words “You know where to find me. 20 minutes- SS” were written in elegant, yet hurried lettering. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen. No. Way. Collecting yourself in front of the wandering eyes of your peers, you grab the rest of your parchments and textbooks and shove everything haphazardly into your bag. You practically run back to your dorm, mind racing. Absolutely no way is this happening right now. You were tingling all over as you lightly pad over to your bed, sliding your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor. You glance around the room to make sure everyone is asleep. Only one bed catches your attention, your roommate Tia, had her curtains drawn and you could see her wand light coming from under the edges. You assume she’s up reading like she usually is. After determining she wasn’t going to pop her head out at your noise upon entering the room, you stand next to your bed, eyes still wider than ever. If this was really happening, you need to wrap your brain around it and FAST. First things first- what was happening? You race through the possibilities quickly in your head. There was no way Snape could know what you think about him, he was just testing you for some reason, right? That had to be it. You were going to walk down to the potions classroom and this would all be a big joke. He would be there and he would deduct 50 points from your house for breaking curfew. Why he chose you, you had no idea, but that’s what had to be happening. There was no other reason your professor would be calling you to his presence at 11pm.  
You slap yourself on the forehead and let out a small breath of air as the realization hits you like a truck. Legilimency. You could not believe you’ve forgotten your professor was one of the most skilled legilimens of the century. That means that earlier in the day, and countless times before, Professor Snape has watched himself make you his as you daydream in his class. You try and think of the amount of times you’ve pictured yourself being used on Snape’s desk, bent over Snape’s desk, under Snape’s desk, all while sitting mere feet from him in class. It dawns on you that you can’t even begin to keep track.  
“Okay. So,” you think to yourself, trying to reason with your racing thoughts, “go, possibly get fucked by your favorite professor. Don’t go, most definitely transfer out of potions. Don’t go, miss out on possibly the riskiest experience of your life. Go, get caught and get expelled, Snape loses his job. Don’t go...regret it.” You deadpan as you realize you’ve already made your decision. You know even if Snape had asked you to bend over in front of him with a room full of students, you would do it.  
Honestly, you still weren’t 100% sure what you were walking into, but you know you want to be prepared. You pull open the small trunk at the end of your bed and grab the emerald green lace lingerie set you had fantasized about in your daydream mere hours before, crawl onto your bed, and thrust the curtains closed so you can change quickly. You have to laugh a little, thinking back to the last time you had worn this set. Or, rather, who you had worn this set for. Before you can stop the images, silver hair and blue eyes blown black with lust flash behind your eyelids. You push them from your mind and quickly fasten the lingerie, throw on your knee-length silk nightgown, and your house robes over that. It’s chilly in the castle in the evening. You decide your hair is just how it’s going to have to be, praying that taking it down from its current ponytail will be enough. The now-free hair hangs over your shoulder as you lean over the side of your bed and throw on your sneakers. You slide out of bed as silently as possible and check your reflection in the mirror hanging from the back of your dorm room door. Your makeup is still in place from this morning when you got ready and you nod at yourself, thinking you’re as put together as you could be in 5 minutes time.  
You retrieve the note from Snape and your wand from where you had thrown them on your side table in your haste earlier and sneak back out of the dorm rooms. Luckily enough, when you reach the common rooms again, only one other student remains, and he’s fast asleep, leaning on a pile of his textbooks.  
When you reach the hallway outside the common room, you consider casting Lumos to light your way, but decide it would be better if you stay as inconspicuous as possible. One hand on the stone wall next to you, you hurriedly make your way down the long hallway to the potions classroom. Almost shivering by the time you reach the door, maybe from the cold or maybe from the anticipation, you steel yourself and before you realize it, your hand is out in front of you and you’ve knocked on the door.  
Your heart is absolutely pounding, but you hear just a second of movement before the door opens in front of you, and you look up to meet the dark eyes of your potions professor. He looks down his nose at you and steps aside without a word. Only hesitating a moment, you step past him into the classroom. You don’t dare turn around as you hear the door close ever so softly behind you- you had never been afraid of him until this moment. You had no clue what you were in for and that made your heart race in the best way.  
Still behind you, but you believe now facing you from the sound of his breathing, Professor Snape clears his throat expectantly. You purse your lips and turn to face him.  
“Good evening, Professor. You wanted to see me?” You choose to play dumb and pray he just come out with what he wants from you so you don’t make a fool of yourself by making assumptions.  
He clasps his hands in front of him and- there! You see it again, you thought you might have imagined it the first time, but no- his eyes rake the front of your robes, but by the time you comprehend it, his eyes are locked right back onto yours.  
“I have noticed by now that you do not pay attention in my classroom. This is something that needs to be addressed. I can’t have you daydreaming and fantasizing your way through my lessons.” He enunciates this with a finger under your chin, jerking your face up to meet his.  
You meet his eyes, not sure what to do next. The smirk playing on his lips makes you confident, and you decide it’s now or never. Letting your mouth speak without thinking of the consequences, you speak quickly. “Yes sir, but I know you saw what I was thinking about today. I swear I didn’t mean to, I didn’t piece it together before. I never intended for you to find out, but then I got your note and I-.” Suddenly, he’s gone from you; his hand is back to his side and turns his back on you. You watch as he clasps his hands behind his back and strides further into the room and you shiver at the lack of contact, realizing just how cold it is in these dungeons. He speaks and suddenly you’re warm again, his amber voice seeps deep into your bones.  
“You really want those things from me? I’m your teacher. Your head of house. I mean,” he pauses here to turn to face you, “I have to believe you do. I’ve watched myself do unspeakable things to you for months now. Things that a teacher should never even think about. Every time you’re in my class, or even in the Great Hall, I’ve watched myself take you in every position through your mind’s eye. Even now, when I’ve called you to my side in the late hours of the evening, you’ve come. I have to believe this is something you wish to act on.”  
You’re half excited and half embarrassed. You feel yourself start to tremble at even the slightest possibility you could be getting your way tonight. You try and think of the dirtiest things Snape could have seen in recent weeks and bring them to the forefront of your mind, hoping he’s looking in on them now. You feel a prickling sensation at the very edges of your brain and you shiver, wondering if that is the sensation of him intruding your mind.  
He stops his pacing abruptly. “Unless you’d like me to force it out of you, I’d advise you to speak your mind. I should not have to exhaust myself looking through it.”  
You sound more confident than you feel, “yes, Professor. I do want you, I love thinking of you making me yours. I want to show you how much I want you.” You put on a sultry face and lock eyes with the dark haired man in front of you. “Even when I’m just sitting in my dorm room, I often touch myself thinking of you.” While you’re speaking, you realize he’s inching his way back toward you. “I want you to make me forget my own name.”  
“It’s been a long time since anyone has wanted to be physical with me. Especially someone as willing and forward as you are, girl.”  
You blush at this and watch the gears turn in Snape’s mind, his eyes now rapidly moving to take in every inch of your body. He continues to move toward you with a tantalizing slowness. Your breath hitches in your throat as he finally closes the distance between you, bringing his hand up to lightly caress your cheek, trailing it down to your neck where it comes to rest wrapped lighter than a feather around your throat. It feels like you wait forever, but then his lips crash into yours and the electricity in the air is almost palpable. He moves his lips against yours hungrily, drinking you in. You’ve never felt a kiss like this before, it’s different and mature and you can’t get enough. His free hand grips your hip with ferocity and brings you flush against his front. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and you can’t help but open up for him. With every passing second, you feel yourself growing more and more desperate with want. A professor has his tongue down your throat. And not just any professor, the dungeon bat himself, Severus Snape. Severus Snape was currently moving his hands up your sides to reach for your breasts, palming them through your thin nightgown. You let a moan escape your lips and try to grind yourself against Snape’s growing erection. This pulls a guttural grunt from the man, and he pulls away from you roughly.  
“On your knees, girl.” Snape surprises you with his changed tone and you oblige, finding yourself almost giddy at his order. Dropping to your knees, you move to quickly undo the belt that was now eye level with you. Snape smacks your hands and you recoil, looking up at him in confusion.  
“Who gave you permission?” He snarles down at you, but you see a small smirk cross his lips.  
So we’re going to play this game, are we? You hold back a smirk similar to his own, and breathe out, “sir, may I please?” You look at him through your lashes. Snape licks his lips and looks at you with his onyx eyes somehow even deeper than they usually are and gives you a firm nod. “Good girl, you may.” You grin openly now, and move back to the buckle in front of you. Pulling his trousers down, you get your first sight of his member tenting beneath his underwear. Letting out a little whimper at his size, you move forward and begin peppering his still clothed cock with kisses.  
Snape’s breathing quickens and you feel his hands move and collect your hair in his fist. You take that as your cue and slide Snape’s underwear down his thighs, pulling them to his ankles where his trousers already lay. Hungrily, you take in the sight of his perfectly pink member, now free, resting against his torso. He looks down at you, eyebrow cocked, with an expression that makes you want to laugh. Holding back, but still smiling, you lick a small stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip, relishing in the noises that immediately erupt from the man above you. Taking the length of him into your mouth, you bob your head quickly and move a hand to wrap around the base where you couldn’t quite reach. You continue this, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum sneaking its way into your mouth. But before long, Snape’s hands tighten their grip in your hair and you look up to see his head thrown back and feel his thighs start to shake, trying to hold back his release. This spurs you on more and you quicken your pace, making him disappear down your throat. Snape growls and pulls your hair, making you pop off of his member with an unholy noise.  
“You’re going to want to stop that if you want any chance of me fucking you like the good girl you’re being.”  
Wiping your chin, you let Snape pull you to your feet. You watch him kick the garments around his ankle off to the side, and in a gesture uncharacteristically kind, he grabs your hand in his and places the other on your lower back, leading you to his desk. As you reach the front of the classroom, you realize how terribly clothed you are. You shed your robe and place it on an empty desk, leaving you in your sheer nightgown, emerald green peeking through it. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Snape though, and he steps back to take you in.  
“And what do we have here, then? Have you worn this just for me?”  
“Yes, sir. I had hoped you weren’t calling me down here just to yell at me,” you remark. A smirk makes its way across Snape’s features. Moving toward him, you begin to help him shed his top layers. Once he’s down to only the button up he wears under his usual dark outfit, you realize just how handsome your professor’s body truly is. His firm chest and muscular arms flex a little as he pulls the last article off his shoulders.  
“Against the desk now, pet.” He jerks his head toward the large oak desk a few feet behind you. You love the way he looks right now: chest moving rapidly, hair disheveled, sweat threatening to break on his brow, and take a mental picture to look back on when you were alone in your dorms at night.  
Against the side of his desk, you lean back on your palms, and watch as Snape moves closer, and he grabs the hem of your nightgown roughly. You think for a second he might literally rip the thing off of you, but he slips the thin straps off your shoulders and it pools gracefully to the floor.  
“Merlin, you’re beautiful.” And then his mouth is on your neck, you moan from the contact and throw your head to the side to give him more access. Winding your fingers through his dark locks, his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot on your neck and you gasp out, goosebumps erupting over your skin.  
“Professor, please,” you manage to moan out in between heaved breaths.  
“Please what, pet? Do you want me to ravage you? Take you on this desk like I have so many times in your mind?” Not only hearing, but feeling his rumbling voice against your neck sparks something in you and you hop up on to the desk, pulling him toward you in the process so he is situated between your open legs. You whimper at the contact with your core, and let your head fall back to the side, his hands running over every inch of your body. He gives your thighs a squeeze before moving to whisper in your ear.  
“How about I leave a mark here?” He accentuates this with a kiss right below your ear. “Or here,” a kiss at the crook of your neck. “Here,” a kiss right under your jaw, “or here maybe,” a final kiss to the most visible spot on the side of your neck. You just about combust when you think about the other students being able to see a mark from him. You realize your eyes were screwed tightly shut and you open them, the words burst from you pitifully, “please, yes, please you can mark me wherever you would like, sir. I want everyone to know they can’t have me.”  
“I will mark you how I please this evening. No foolish boy from this school will ever lay his hands on you again. This signifies that you are mine moving forward. And when you come to my class, I’ll be reminded of our little adventure here and the ones to come. If I mark you as you wish, you are forbidden to cover it. You must leave it on display until it fades.” His lips brush against your jawline as he speaks, driving you crazy.  
“I promise, professor.” You nod fervently and tilt your head for him once more as you feel him work his way back down to the most exposed part of your neck. You knew if he marked you there, there would be nothing you could wear that would cover it. Your scarf might, but only maybe. Snape’s teeth graze your soft flesh, and you’re sure he must be able to feel your pulse racing. You feel him begin to lightly suck on his chosen spot, and just it starts to hurt a little, he bites down roughly. You hiss through your teeth, and realize the mark is probably going to be dark purple. He pulls away and looks over his work, kissing the now sensitive skin, and blows cool air over it, trying to lessen the sting.  
“Yes, I think that will do. Now, why don’t you bend over the desk for me? I want to make you whimper my name.”  
You happily oblige, pushing yourself off the edge of the desk, and flip over so your belly is flat against the cold wood. You feel him trace his fingers over your back lightly. You feel his fingers slip into the waistband of your underwear, and he pulls them slowly from your hips, which you lift to help him, and you hear them lightly hit the floor at his feet. Before you have a chance to get comfortable again, his fingers are gone and he comes down flat palmed on your bare ass, the smack echoing in the small room. You let out a long, drawn out groan.  
“This is what you wanted from me, is it not? I’ve seen this one many, many times, girl.” He brings his hand down again, this time on the other cheek. He orders you to count with him, and you do so. He finds a steady rhythm, and stops when he gets to 10. You feel his toned body press flush against you from your ass to your shoulders, and he’s whispering in your ear once more. His hips are pressing you firmly into the desk, trapping you under his weight. You feel hands snake under you to lightly pinch and twist at your nipples, making you bury your head into the desk in front of you in pleasure.  
“I’m going to fuck you now, pet.” You bite your bottom lip and let out a shuddering, excited breath at his words. You feel him stand upright again, kick your legs open further, and then finally, finally, you feel him rubbing against your slick folds. He’s teasing you, never letting more than the tip enter you, bringing his member back and forth over your heat. You start to pant, the stimulation being too much for you to handle, and finally moan out, “Severus, please.” He smacks your already sore bottom for that and with his amber voice says, “Is that how you are to address me?”  
“N-no, sir.”  
“That’s correct. For that, I believe I will not take it easy on you.” At that, he enters you and bottoms out, filling you entirely.  
You hear him make the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, a rumbling in his chest that bubbles over his lips into a deep, long moan.  
“Fuck, you little witch. You’re so tight. If I had known you felt like this, I would have had you bent over my desk some time ago.”  
You wiggle beneath him, trying to come up onto your elbows as he continues his relentless pace, slamming into you. You could feel every inch slide in and out of you, and the thought of him being able to watch himself disappear inside you makes you let out a strangled moan.  
“How are you liking the view, professor,” you ask innocently, glancing over your shoulder to meet his dark eyes.  
He lets out a small huff, and thrusts his hips harder, meeting your ass with a satisfying smack each time. Snape’s rough hands grab and squeeze at your thighs as his hips start to stutter, and you know he’s close to his release. You moan out his name, which you realize he lets slide, and let a string of “please, sirs” fall from your lips and he grabs a handful of your hair, making your back arch as he finds his release, filling you up with his seed. He removes himself from you and helps you stand. When you regain your footing, you feel his cum start to slowly slide down your thigh. You feel tingly all over and move to stand within his reach. He runs a hand through his hair and pulls you to his chest, not caring that either of you are sweaty. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyeing his lips hungrily. Snape moves down close to you, closing the distance, and his voice is honey, making your breath quicken.  
“You will leave that mark visible.” Snape tilts your head at this, surveying what you assume to be a significant mark on your neck, “if you do as I say and I notice your efforts to follow instruction, you will be permitted to continue these little visits.” He sighs almost dreamily, “Now, my pet, I know you didn’t have your release tonight. Be assured, I will make this up to you tenfold on your next visit if you do as you’re told. What do you say to that?”  
Feeling like you've just signed some sort of contract, but not particularly caring at the moment, you respond, “I think that sounds wonderful, professor. Anything you like.” Your words come out, to your embarrassment, in something like a moan, and Snape chuckles deeply.  
“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, then. Aren’t you breaking curfew?” He smacks you roughly on your still bare ass and it makes you jump. You let out a small giggle and collect your things. You turn to grab your underwear from their discarded position on the floor, and you hear him clear his throat behind you. Turning, you see Snape has a hand outstretched. “I will be keeping those.” You look down at the crumpled garment in your hand and back up at him, wondering if he was joking. One look in his eyes tells you he certainly was not. Stepping toward him, you drop the green lace into his open palm and watch as he picks up his trousers and stuffs them into the pocket. He steps into his trousers and pulls them on and buttons up, all while you stare in wonder at the man in front of you. After he is covered waist down, Snape moves to the door of the classroom and opens it for you, giving you a small bow. You tighten your robes around your shoulder and give him a peck on his cheek, standing on your tiptoes to reach him.  
“Goodnight, sir.” His eyes follow you as you leave and as quietly as possible, sneak back to your dorm room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you!! I'm not sure how many chapters this fic will have, it's just been a fun hobby recently! Let me know if you would like to see more from this story!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little Sev chapter while I edit the rest that I have done! Thanks to all of you who are sticking with this story! The people wanted feelings, so I'll give the people feelings!

Severus watches as she rounds the corner, fleeing back to her dorm room. He closes the door as soon as she is out of sight and leans against it for a moment’s support, the cold metal stinging his bare back. "What have I done?" He thinks to himself, "If we’re caught, I’m over. I’ll be out of a job for the rest of my life." Pushing himself off of the door, he slowly makes his way over to the pile of clothes still on the floor. He quickly dresses and straightens up his desk to erase the night’s activities. After he’s buttoned himself back up into his shirt, he double checks her underwear are still safely tucked away in his trousers pocket, and on finding that they are, takes a last look around the room to make sure he’s not missed anything, and sweeps out of it. He walks back to his chambers as quickly as possible.  
His school sanctioned room is fairly simple, but just what he needs. Upon opening the door to his chambers, there is a sitting room that faces a small fireplace on the right hand side. On top of a large green rug sits a couch, a loveseat, and a wooden desk with a matching chair to work on his marks- all sitting facing the fire. To the left of the main door is a small kitchen that contains a stove, refrigerator, sink, and small bar counter. He has little storage space, but he didn’t really need much, as most of his meals are provided in the Great Hall. The counter provides the main separation of the room coming up to about his bellybutton in height and stopping at the edge of the sink, with two bar stools that sit nestled under the edge of the countertop. Past that, his dark bedroom. In it, a king size four poster bed sits against the largest wall, and floor to ceiling bookshelves line the walls in every other available space. They contain anything from Hogwarts: A History, to muggle studies like Shakespeare and Conan Doyle. Other than his books, he had not collected very many personal items over his time at Hogwarts. A small stand for his cauldron sits in the corner of the room, and there is an even smaller stand for his wand that sits on his bookshelf nearest his bed. Lastly, he has a photo of himself laughing with Minerva and Pomona at their very first Quidditch match as professors. It sits on his bedside table; a moment in time when he was happiest repeating over and over each time he looks at it. His own bathroom is through the door on the left of the bedroom, containing his own personal shower and tub so he didn’t need to share with the Slytherin students. His closet sits at the back of the bathroom in the bathroom, full of mainly teaching clothes and cloaks. There are no windows in any area of Severus’ quarters, but he makes the place as warm and homey as he can with more candles than can be counted. He has charmed them to sit on his shelves, float in his bedroom, sit all over his bathroom, on his table in the sitting room, and float high in his hallway. Tall candle stands sit in every corner of each room, each stand holding anywhere from 1-4 candles each. Upon entering his chambers, it is actually a sight to behold as they all ignite at once, casting his rooms in a wonderfully warm glow.  
Severus makes his way through the threshold of his chambers and heads over to light a fire to chase away the chill that always settles over the room when he was not occupying it. He decides to make himself a cup of tea and unwind a moment before beginning his nightly routine. Severus can’t help but relive the evening’s past events as he pulls his tea cup from the cabinet over his small kitchen stove. Her hair falling over her shoulders, and her big, wide eyes staring up at him from her position on her knees. Her skin was so soft and delicate under his fingertips. He can hear her moans ringing in his ears still, and he can feel himself start to get aroused again. “Haven’t you already had enough tonight?” He says aloud to his growing erection. Sighing and choosing to ignore it, he pulls a kettle from its place on the shelf above his sink and puts it on the stove. (He knows he could just magic himself boiling water, but sometimes he likes the routine.) While he waits for his water to boil, Severus elects to head to his room and change into something that wasn’t as restricting as his teaching clothes. He makes his way into his bathroom and surveys himself in the mirror. Finding his cheeks are flushed, he turns on the tap, and splashes himself with cold water, letting it run down his face. Thoughts wild, he shakes his head and begins to disrobe, wiping his still dripping face with his shirt, then discards it to the floor. He picks a simple long sleeve black crewneck from his closet and follows it with a pair of soft gray pajama bottoms. He once stumbled on these pants in a muggle store he was forced into with Pomona, and he offhandedly commented on their texture and how much he liked it, and now she’s gifted him so many pairs for Christmas, he’s sure he has every color at this point. Severus retraces his steps back to his trousers, realizing he’d forgotten her underwear in his pocket. He retrieves them and makes his way over to his bed, inspecting the thin green lace in between his fingers. He pulls open the drawer of his bedside table and drops them in for safe keeping.  
Hearing his kettle start to whistle, he hurriedly makes his way back into the kitchen and removes it from the stove top, pouring the near-boiling water into his waiting tea cup. He finds his tea leaves and puts them into his steeper, and places it gingerly into the cup. Sighing and stretching his back out, he grabs a book and sits by the fire, thinking about the girl who he is worried will take over his life, and sips his tea.  
Severus ends up falling asleep where he was on the couch, visions of her trailing her fingers over his cheek and holding his hand making him fall into a peaceful slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

As much as you adore sleeping in on your “late start” mornings, the sun shining through the windows directly onto your eyelids beg you to get up and start your day. Groaning, you slowly open your eyes and try to blink away the fantastical brightness of the sun coating your bed in warmth. You sit up, stretching, and whimper when you feel how badly your hips are hurting you. Memories slowly trickling in, you can’t help but smile as you realize last night wasn’t a dream, it had really happened. You had slept with a professor AND been invited back. A professor you have a massive crush on, you might add. You throw your sheets back off your legs and swing them over the side of your bed, searching for your slippers. You start to slip off to reach for them, when you are fiercely jolted off the bed by someone plopping down on the other side of your mattress. You fall to the floor, hard, and whip around from your position where you caught yourself to confront whoever has just started your morning like this.  
“Hey, what’s the big ide- oh, good morning.” Your anger deflates as Amelia sits snickering on your bed, hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to knock you off. I was just coming to see if you wanted to come out to the quidditch pitch with me today sometime to study?”  
Picking yourself up off the floor, you dust off your knees and your bottom and then right yourself, facing her. “Sure, we can do that. I’m famished though, has lunch been served yet?” You glance around the room and notice it’s just the two of you left in the dorm room, realizing it has to be around lunch time or later. She doesn’t answer, and when you look back at her, she’s staring, HARD, at your neck.  
“Is that what I think it is?” She looks quickly from your eyes, back to your neck, back up at your eyes in shock.  
“Um, I don’t know what you mean.” You try to play it cool and shift slowly so that you’re facing out the window, not directly at her, hoping to obscure her view of Snape’s love bite.  
She scrambles across your bed, pulling almost all the sheets off with her when she comes. Grabbing your face in her hands, she jerks you back to face her and brings her nose just inches from your neck.  
“Holy shit. It’s so dark! Who gave it to you? It wasn’t there yesterday, was it? No, it wasn’t. I would have noticed. Did you go somewhere after lights out last night? Holy shit, was it Draco? You know what I’ve told you about him, he really is toxic.” Her words spill out of her faster than you can even think and you move to place your hands on the ones still resting on your cheeks.  
“Take a breath, you’re gonna pass out!” You pull her hands from your face and lead her back to the edge of your mattress. You sit down and tug her arms to have her sit next to you.  
“I’m gonna tell you- because you’re my best friend and I trust you, but this might be the biggest secret I ever ask you to keep.”  
She laughs, thinking you’re joking, but you raise your eyebrows at her and her demeanor quickly changes. “Oh, oh right, yeah okay. You know my lips are sealed. You can tell me anything, I promise you.” She adjusts herself so she’s facing you fully on the mattress and clasps her hands in her lap.  
You take a steadying breath. “So, you know how you always make fun of me for thinking Professor Snape is attractive?” She nods, not speaking, and you continue shakily. “Well, something sort of happened with that.” You go on, watching as the realization slowly reveals itself on her features. You explain everything in detail, and end with repeating to her his command that if you leave his mark on display, he’ll let you come back so you can continue.  
Amelia’s mouth has dropped open wide, and she’s staring at you like you’ve just told her you plan to jump from the astronomy tower.  
“Well,” you coax her, “aren’t you going to say anything?” You search her eyes for any sign of emotion but she just stares back at you.  
“Amelia, please.” You beg, “you’re going to catch flies.” She snaps her mouth closed and a hand flies to her face to cover it.  
After a few excruciating moments, she lowers her hand and when she does, you watch as a huge grin starts to replace the look of shock. “You fucked Snape. And he left that there.” She points to your neck and lets out a laugh that very closely resembles a balloon letting out air.  
“Please, be serious! What do I do about all of this?” You groan and swat her finger away from you.  
“Well, don’t get caught, that’s for sure. Do you like him? Like, do you like him like him?” She looks at you with a moment of seriousness and you stir her question around in your mind. You think you do, but you wonder if that’s just the high from the previous night clouding your judgement or if you have genuine feelings for the raven haired man.  
You answer honestly, “I’m not sure. I think I do, I just want to spend a little more time with him before anything is decided. I definitely want to ‘mess around’ with him more, but I’d like to see what he’s like in normal settings too, you know?” She nods understandingly, and grabs one of your hands from your lap and holds it in her own. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You have to make sure you stay on guard and get out if things aren’t going where you want them to, okay? Don’t let him use you or play with you. If you ever need me to kick him in the nuts, you know I will.” The two of you erupt into a fit of laughter, falling into each other, but you know her offer is true. She would do anything for you and you for her. 

After your conversation with Amelia, you feel much better. She offers to run to the Great Hall and collect a plate food for you while you shower. Lunch was nearly over and your first class of the day would be starting, leaving you time to either go to the Great Hall and eat, or have a rushed meal here in your dorm after you shower. You quickly gather your things and make your way up the staircase from the girl’s dorms and head for the bathrooms just down the hall from the common room. Whispering the password to the closed door in front of you, you hear the latch click and you push the door open, entering the large, echoing room. Quickly heading for the shower farthest from the door, you are thankful that you don’t hear any other showers running. You slip into the shower stall and slide the door closed behind you.  
There’s a small mirror on the back of the door, and seeing yourself, you gasp as you get your first look at the mark on your neck. It’s large, and a horrible, deep purple. There was absolutely no way even your thickest foundation could cover anything that dark. It would surely still peek through. Huffing and turning from the mirror, you disrobe and sit your clothes along with your small shower caddy on the provided shelf that unfolds from the back of the door. Turning the water up as hot as it could go, you step under it and sigh softly as the beating water helps to work out your tired muscles. You squeeze a small dollop of shampoo into your palm and begin to lather it into your hair, working your fingers over your scalp. Without meaning to, you begin to picture what it would be like to shower with Snape. You’re fairly confident (for reasons you’re not sure of) that he would be against you washing his hair, but you think he would insist on washing yours. Letting the water run over your sudsy head, you rinse the remaining shampoo from it as you think of how that situation would play out.  
Starting to feel yourself become aroused at the thought of Snape being in the shower with you and greedily running his hands all over your wet body, along with how it would feel to graze your lips over his neck while the water runs over you both. You unceremoniously let your fingers start trail down your torso. You let out a soft moan when you reach your folds, picturing your hands as Snape’s thicker ones. You know you don’t have much time, and find your clitoris quickly, working it between your fingers and feeling a familiar pressure curl itself in your abdomen. You let your free hand grab your breast, twisting and pulling at your already hard nipple. You picture Snape stooping down to take the bud in his mouth and swirl his tongue around it. You stimulate this by flicking your own nipple and you let out a gasp in response. You know you’re close already, so you begin to pick up speed, circling your clit and roughly pinching at your nipples. Suddenly, you feel a prickling sensation creep in at the edges of your mind, and you stop what you’re doing entirely. It feels like someone has just turned on an old static tv inside your head. You realize you’ve felt this before, when Severus was picking through your mind previously, trying to see what you were thinking as you stood before him in his classroom. Not wanting to miss your opportunity, you push images of yourself and Severus dripping wet in the shower to the forefront of your mind, praying it is him looking in on you, and begin the work on your dripping heat once more. Now though, you’re working to please not only yourself, but your intruder as well. You think about yourself moaning his name and bending over for Severus in the shower as he rails you from behind, the water bouncing off of you both and the noise your skin would make as it came in contact with his. You feel yourself getting close to the edge again, and you come undone, choking back what was sure to be a loud moan as best you could as you picture Severus throwing his head back in ecstasy, finishing inside you. You watch the water dripping down his body, realizing it makes him look like a piece of art. As you stand there, attempting to regain your breath, the prickling sensation grows stronger, and then is gone as quickly as it came. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you rinse your hands and turn the water to the shower off. You take a towel from the provided stack in your stall, drying yourself as quickly as you can and redressing. You collect your things and head back to your room to eat, gather your books, and head to class.


	5. Chapter 5

Severus sits, chest heaving, on his bed. He figured he would catch her in class, or walking through the halls. He just wanted to see where she was at, wanted to know what she was thinking about.  
He didn’t expect to look in on her… doing that. How did she know he was there? How was she able to play those scenes out so vividly for him? He almost believed his skin was slick with the shower water as he touched himself for her just a few moments before.

He tried his best to regain his composure and steady his breathing. He looks down at the mess he has just made on his trousers and bed sheets, resolving to change his bedding promptly after he gets back from class for the evening. He stands on shaky legs and makes his way to his bathroom, washing himself down with a warm washcloth. He would have preferred to shower, but he has to be in his classroom in the next 15 minutes. He dresses in a new set of pants and grabs his wand from it’s previously forgotten place on his bedside table. He braces himself with a hand on the doorknob to his chambers, and takes a long, deep breath before swinging it open and heading out into the hall.  
Before he realizes it, he detours on his way to his classroom. (Even though it is very much out of his way to go down the corridor he chose.) Instead of the straight shot to his classroom from his chambers, he makes a left and heads toward the lavatory. He didn’t let himself accept that he chose to come this way in the hopes he would pass her on her way back to her dorm room. He doesn’t truly expect to run into her, thinking she must be headed to her next class already, but is delighted all the same when he rounds the corner and sees her, back turned to him, closing the door to the girls’ lavatory. He continues a faux leisurely pace, watching as she turns from the door and stops in her tracks with wide eyes as she notices him coming.  
“Hello, Professor.” She says meekly, eyes trained on his shoes, as she pushes back a stray piece of wet hair that has fallen into her face.  
Snape closes the distance between them swiftly, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Hello, pet. You must think you’re very clever, don’t you? Teasing me with those images when you know I can’t do anything about it at the present.” He surveys her more closely, noticing that her uniform collar does not even BEGIN to get close enough to the spot on her neck it needs to be at to cover the mark he left her, and realizes only now that she has pulled her hair back in a low bun, making sure her hickey is on display.  
“You’re following my orders then, I see?” He looks into her eyes and she holds his gaze, tilting her chin up a fraction of an inch in pride.  
“Of course I am. I would be stupid not to.” At this, he slides his hand up her waist under her robes, out of view of any passers-by in the hallway. “You’re correct on that matter, girl. It would be stupid to defy me.” He hears a small whimper leave her throat as his fingers graze over the small strip of bare flesh in between her uniform top and skirt. Hearing her make noises for him sends a shock straight to his cock and it’s all he can do to keep from tearing her clothes off right then and there. He regretfully removes his hand from her skin and moves back, to allow her space to pass by him.  
“I’ll see you in a few hours, Miss (y/l/n).”  
“I’ll look forward to it… sir.” She smirks at him as she passes by, making sure she brushes up against his half hard erection as she does so.  
Severus watches her go until she rounds the corner and is out of sight, then hurriedly makes his way to his classroom before the start of his lesson.

\------

All the way back to your dorm room, all you can think about is how close Severus got to you in the hallway and how thrilling it was that anyone could have walked past and had suspicions as to why he was only millimeters from your face. You enter the empty common room and beeline for your dorm. You notice a plate of food on your bedside table as you enter and send a silent thanks to Amelia for dropping it off for you. You won’t see her again until dinner time as she was excused from Potions class later today to help Flitwick in his Charms lesson. As quickly as you could without making yourself sick, you munch down the turkey sandwich, apple, and pudding she was able to snag for you. Looking at the clock above the dorm room entrance, you gather your books in a haste and exit, making your way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.  
After the long walk to the other side of the castle, you find yourself entering the classroom at the same time as Neville Longbottom, and sneak a glance over at him as he walks next to you. You’re painfully aware of the mark on your neck and try not to face him as you speak.  
“Hey, Neville! How are things going?”  
“O-oh, yeah, they’re great, how about you?” He smiles and turns to look at you. When he does though, he notices your hickey and visibly flinches. You see a furious blush explode high over his cheeks and you internally groan. He doesn’t say anything, but he averts his eyes quickly.  
“Oh, just peachy.” You mumble in response. You fall back a little and part ways from him. Deciding moving forward, you need to keep your head down and not speak to anyone else unless you absolutely have to. Neville makes his way toward the middle of the classroom and you watch as he places his books on the desk and sits down. Each desk has two seats, making it easy to pair off on assignments and do group work.  
You eye the room and make your decision easily, slipping into the open seat next to Neville. If he already noticed your hickey, you might as well stick next to him and try to make things easier on yourself. He gives you a small, almost concerned smile as you sit down, but you notice his eyes are on your neck the whole time.  
Exhaling grumpily, you turn to face the front of the classroom, and listen as the rest of your classmates trickle in and find their seats. Justin Finch-Fletchley barely has his cloak in the door when it slams closed behind him and you watch as Professor Lockhart twirls from his office and descends the stairs gracefully.  
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Can you all see me? Can you all hear me?” He flashes a wild grin and whips his cloak off so that it lands on top of the front row of students, the two girls seated there beginning to fight over who gets to hold onto the piece of material for him. You roll your eyes and glance over at Neville, hoping he would have the same sort of reaction as you, but his eyes are locked firmly ahead on nothingness, doing everything he can to avoid meeting your eyes. Lockhart makes his way over to the chalkboard in the front of the room and writes down “Cornish Pixies” in his swirling, elegant handwriting.  
“Can anyone tell me what a pixie is?” He asks as he twirls back around to face the class, teeth glinting whiter than snow. “Miss (y/l/n), please stand, explain your understanding of a pixie.”  
Your heart beats out of your chest at the idea of standing up in front of a room full of your classmates with Snape’s hickey standing out on your pale neck.  
“Come now, up with you.” Lockhart moves closer to you and waves his arm, gesturing for you to stand.  
Reluctantly, you stand up and clear your throat. “Pixies are usually quite small, blue creatures that like to cause mischief, sir. They can only communicate to other Pixies, and it is common knowledge that their voices are horribly shrill. They also have incredible strength for being such small creatures.” You keep your head down as you speak, and as soon as the last word is out of your mouth, you take your seat, trying to be as inconspicuous as you can with your haste. Unfortunately, Lockhart isn’t always as thick as he seems. His eyes are trained on you and he slowly makes his way over to your table.  
“Yes, yes. Very good. Very good indeed.” He stops in front of your table, and you have no choice but to look up at him. “I knew it!” He exclaims. “I thought I saw something there. A love bite! How sweet! You know, once, I received a love bite from a Veela! I had her wrapped around my finger.” He grins and chuckles at the class again before he bends down to inspect the mark further. You try to raise a hand to cover it, but it’s too late. You can feel yourself going what you’re sure is a crimson red, and you want to sink into your chair and disappear forever. “Now, who gave you that, may I ask?”  
Luckily, you hear a voice from the other side of the classroom speak sharply, “Professor! That’s highly inappropriate. You can’t interfere with our personal lives like that. Please sir, I have something to say about the pixies.” It was Hermione. You wanted to run to her and sweep her into the biggest hug you’ve ever given. You pray he takes the bait and watch as he flicks his eyes back to her, but does not move from his half bent stance at your desk.  
“One moment, Granger. I’m sure we’re all very curious about the question at hand, aren’t we, class?” There are some murmurs and hushed whispers that ripple through the students.  
Then, the last voice on the planet you want to hear speaks up loudly, and you whip your head toward its owner. “Sorry, sir. That would be my doing then. Got a little carried away, you know how it can be.” Draco Malfoy’s pompousness can be heard dripping off of his words. Professor Lockhart straightens immediately and looks over to Draco with his arms outstretched wide. “Ahh, Mr. Malfoy, I could have guessed. Two attractive Purebloods in Slytherin house? It was only a matter of time before you found each other.” He looks back down at you with a new sense of pride on his face and gestures back to Hermione. “Now you may proceed, Miss Granger.” She begins speaking immediately, and you don’t know if she is still trying to help you or if she just couldn’t contain the knowledge on the tip of her tongue any longer. Either way, as soon as Lockhart has moved from his position in front of you, you lay your head down on your arms on top of your desk, grateful for the distraction.  
You feel Neville pat your knee under the table, but you can’t bring yourself to pull your head off of your arms to thank him. You stay that way until everyone is dismissed from class, and you all but run out, feeling the most embarrassed you ever have in your whole life.

Barely containing your tears from the embarrassment, you make your way to the courtyard outside the castle as quickly as you can. This is the fastest way over to the Potions classroom, and hopefully you can avoid the wandering eyes of the other students leaving their classes. The sun is warm on your skin as you burst out of the final corridor into the grassy expanse in the middle of the school. You’re barely halfway across the courtyard when you hear Draco’s voice call out behind you.  
“And where do you think you’re running to? I thought we had a connection back there.” You can hear his smirk before you even turn around. You flip to face him, stance wide and hands balled into fists at your sides.  
“Draco Malfoy, you’re such an asshole. How DARE you give anyone the idea that we’re sleeping together. How DARE you spread a rumor like that in front of a classroom full of people.” You feel like you could explode, you’re so angry at him.  
“I don’t remember you being this angry when you were squirming all over my coc-”  
“It’s different Draco.” Cutting him off in the sharpest tone you could muster, you try to gather your thoughts. He always has a way of getting under your skin like no one else can and you hated it. “That was once and I told you after it happened that I would never do it again. You know I wasn’t myself that night.” You cross your arms over your chest and search his face for any sign of understanding. You saw none at all. Instead, you watch as he takes a step toward you, his hands out on either side of him.  
“I was helping you, if you think about it. Lockhart moved away from you, didn’t he? It satiated his curiosity. Really, I did it for you.” He smirks and drops his hands back to his sides.  
Scoffing, you take a step back as he continues advancing toward you. “Oh? You did it for me, did you? You didn’t do it so we would be the talk of the school again? To get your name back on everyone’s lips?”  
The time you had drunkenly slept with Draco, he made sure he told everyone he came in contact with. The two of you were the only thing anyone could talk about for weeks. It was absolutely humiliating. All the other Slytherin girls called you a whore, and told them Draco could do so much better than you, and that you only slept with him to take advantage of his status. You watched in suffering those weeks as Draco got congratulated, pats on the back and all. To top it all off, he didn’t even speak to you again, it was like you never existed. Your encounter with him was one of the first of that year that was discovered, hence the popularity of the rumor and the quickness in which it spread. Luckily, a lot of people had forgotten it by the end of the year, but this new story Draco was spinning was sure to stir up old memories for the other students.  
He moves quickly then, taking advantage of you being lost in thought, and closes the distance between you. He grabs your arms roughly and pulls you flush against his chest. His voice is rough and on edge as he speaks.  
“Who gave it to you?”  
You thrash against his grip, hitting his chest and trying to break away. His cologne is taking over your senses, making it hard for you to take a full breath. “No one, let me go right now.” If possible, his grip tightens at that. You look up at him, pleadingly, and his eyes are on fire.  
“I knew you liked it rough. How come you wouldn’t let me be rough with you that night?” He’s hurting you now, his fingertips digging into your arms hard enough you’re worried you might bruise. You inhale to speak again, then, all of a sudden, it’s like his senses come back to him and he releases you entirely, thrusting you away from himself and backing up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.  
“Who gave it to you?” His voice is softer now, and you can see that his curiosity is gnawing at him.  
“Fuck off, Malfoy.” You practically spit in anger at him. You readjust your bag where it had slipped from your shoulder and turn around, running out of the courtyard at full speed, leaving Draco standing where you left him watching you go.


	6. Chapter 6

You wait until you’re sure you’re far enough away from Draco he can’t see you any longer and stop in your tracks. Bending over with your hands on your knees, you let yourself quietly sob. After a good few minutes of feeling sorry for yourself, you wipe your tears away and straighten yourself out. You survey to see how bad the damage is and decide it’s not too bad. You fix your hair where stray strands have fallen, tuck the edge of your shirt back into your skirt where Draco’s roughness pulled it loose, and adjust your tube sock that had slipped while you were running. You scold yourself internally for letting Draco get to you like he has and resolve to just give him a swift kick to the nethers next time he tries to corner you.  
Potions is next on your class list today and you don’t want to look out of sorts when you see Snape, so you give yourself a few moments of controlled breathing and staring off into space to collect yourself. Realizing the time, you continue your way to the dungeons, a new sense of resolve washing over you. Draco always seems to know how to get under your skin with barely a word. His boyish charm had a way of drawing females to him and you had tried to resist as best you could. He was rude and brash and you hated him. You have no idea what told you to go to him that drunken night last year, but you sure regret it. A lot of that night is fuzzy for you as you had consumed way too much Firewhisky with Amelia in your dorm room your third week back at school. While she had gone to bed, you clumsily snuck to the boy’s dormitory and sought out Draco. He had been asleep when you swung the door open. You had been in his shared room once before to visit with a friend from your Charms class so you knew his bed was farthest on the left side of the room and you stumbled over to him. Crawling into bed with him, straddling his knees, you had shaken him awake. He woke quickly, questioning what you were doing in his room. He quickly understood when you started speaking and pulled you in for a kiss, dragging your dizzy body up his and situating you properly on his lap. Things had progressed extremely quickly from there, but a lot of the small details were hard to recall. The rumors had started almost immediately the following morning, as you had woken up tangled around Draco, all his roommates watching you collect your clothes and make the walk of shame back to your dorm.  
Rounding the corner and heading down the stairs to the dungeon, your previously warm body starts to shiver as if on cue. The temperature drops in here what feels like 10 degrees every time you step down another stair. Voices flow down the hall and you realize the classroom is already filling with students. You hurry in, glancing around the room for any sign of Snape, but he’s nowhere to be seen as of yet. Choosing to sit on the side of the classroom that is nearest Snape’s desk, you find your own desk and slide your books to the edge of it so that they are not in your way for the day’s lesson. A bottle drops from somewhere deeper in the classroom with a crash, and you try to pinpoint it, jerking your head toward the noise. Snape is back in the small storeroom he keeps full of ingredients for his classes and student use. You try your best to peek into the closet, straining your neck to see- without being noticeable, but aren’t able to see anything of importance. Suddenly, you hear his amber voice let out a curse under his breath you’re sure no one was supposed to hear, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Hearing noises of him rummaging around a few moments longer, you begin to wonder what he’s searching for.   
Your question isn’t answered, but he comes into view, crossing the threshold of the storeroom door and is now mere feet away from you to your left. He looks at you, and you at him, but his eyes do not linger. He then sweeps them over the class and clasps his hands behind his back, wand in hand. Everyone takes their seats upon noticing he is waiting, and you watch him watch the class, eyes never leaving his dark features. As you sit, almost unblinking, staring at the man standing before you, you’re overcome with his beauty. His eyes are dark and unwavering, but there is a softness there that you would never see unless you really study him. The lines on his face from years of emotion stand out, and his crows feet are actually a lot more prominent than you have ever noticed before. His forehead is creased and his lips are thin, but he looks like he’s been carved from stone, sculpted in all right ways. His jaw is usually set tight, but you can see how wonderful a smile would look on his face. If you were an artist, you would force him to sit down so you could draw his features and take your time getting each line perfect.   
As you’re admiring him, he turns to address the now silent class. He begins to speak, and you flinch as you feel something brush your leg. Examining it under your desk though, and finding nothing, you turn your attention back to the front of the class.  
“Can anyone tell me what I would get if I added the following potions to a cauldron,” he moves to the board hanging on the wall, and picks up a piece of chalk. He writes as he speaks, listing the ingredients off slowly, “dragonfly thorax, flying seahorses, doxy eggs, and fairy wings?” He swirls his last “s'' and the chalk scrapes against the board roughly. Waiting on a hand to raise, he looks at you, briefly, and you suddenly feel what can only be described as a phantom touch trail down your neck, directly over your hickey. You squeak out in surprise and try to swat the hand away, thinking it was someone playing a prank on you to embarass you because of the mark. When your swatting hand meets only your own flesh, you furrow your brows in confusion. Some of the students near you look over at your commotion, and you fake a small smile and brush your hair out of your face, trying to play it off. Once their attention is off of you, you snap your eyes back up at Snape and see the smallest twinkle in his eyes, but he walks to the other side of the class, putting the hand holding his wand behind his back, looking for the answer to his question.   
“Really? No one can tell me? How disappointing. ” He turns sharply on his heel and starts walking slowly back toward your side of the classroom.   
“Miss y/l/n, I’m sure you can enlighten us.” All eyes turn to look at you. Unfortunately, as soon as they do, you feel that ghost hand start to walk its way up your inner thigh, squeezing the skin there and trailing light as a feather up to your core. You shoot Severus daggers, finally piecing it together by the look in his eyes and watching his wand subtly move at his side, that he’s controlling whatever spell or enchantment this is.   
You stand, breath a little quicker than you’d like it to be, and legs a little shakier than you wish to admit, and answer in the calmest voice you could muster, “I-It’s a Girding Potion, I believe, professor.”   
He smiles a thin lipped smile and turns back to the board to write your answer above the ingredients list.   
“Good. You may be seated.” Unfortunately, you miss the flick of Snape’s wand when his back is to the class and don’t see his next little trick coming. When you sit back down, it feels like Severus has just inserted two fingers into your slick folds and you have to forcibly choke down a moan, trying to cover it with a cough.  
Your classmate nearest you gives you a look out of the corner of their eyes, but you ignore it. Trying to shift your hips to relieve yourself even the smallest bit, the invisible force wiggles inside you, controlled by Snape’s wand. He’s addressing the class, but you can’t hear any of it over the rush inside your ears and the pounding of your heart. You feel the edges of your brain start to static and know that he’s looking in on you. You wish that you would be upset at him, or want him to stop, but you didn’t, and now he knew that. Seemingly satisfied at your thoughts, the static fades, and ever so slowly you feel the hand start to retract, and you let out a shaky breath, hoping that Snape was done torturing you.  
The moment you start to relax and let your shoulders drop from their tensed position is the moment Snape decides to let his spell re-enter you, now pumping into your heat with a steady rhythm. You’re so lost in your own head, trying not to make any noise along with keeping a straight face that you don’t hear Snape call on you once more, drawing the room’s attention back to you.  
“I will ask a second time- what does the Girding potion do?” He is looking at you with a small smirk on his face that the other students will think is there because he has caught you daydreaming again, not knowing the real reason you look so flushed.  
Looking at him in disbelief, you rise once more to answer his question, the force inside you never ceasing its pace.   
“Sir, it’s a potion that helps give p-prolonged endurance.” You remember Hermione talking about it a few weeks prior when she pre-read through all the class books for the year’s term. You watch with what you hoped was well disguised horror as Snape lowers his wand to the side of him not facing the class, and flicks it once more. The spell currently making you drip doubles in speed, vibrating inside you, making you feel like you might melt if you didn’t finish soon. You think your legs might buckle; you were holding back shivers now, trying to stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together in front of the curious eyes of your classmates.   
“And what color should the potion start and end as?” His onyx eyes stare at you hungrily, taking in the state of your body, tracking your movements like a hawk.   
You do your best to clear your mind and think back to try to hear Hermione’s voice in your head from that day in the library, but it was too cloudy, your orgasm too near. You scrunch up your brows, tug at your robes, and shift from foot to foot, trying to look innocent and pensive.  
“It begins turquoise and should end red, professor,” you find your voice and take a guess, meeting his eyes hesitantly.  
Giving you a look that you aren’t quite able to identify, he states, “No. It begins turquoise and, if done correctly, should end green. Be seated.”   
You thrust yourself down in your chair just as the touch wrecking your body flicks itself once over your clit. After the constant pleasure and thrill from being around so many people, that seems to be all you need, and your orgasm takes over you like someone has just lit a fuse. Your whole body shivers, rolling from your head down to your toes, making them curl inside your shoes. You grip white knuckled at your desk and screw your eyes shut. Once the spasms fade and panting as silently as you are able, you lay your head down on your desk in an attempt to hide the furious blush on your cheeks. 

The rest of the class passes, thankfully, uneventfully. Snape does not give you a second glance after his little game, and you’re grateful for it. You brew up what you hope to be at least a passing grade Girding potion and bottle a small vial of it up to turn in. Making sure your workspace is clean, you walk your potion up to Snape and set it down on his desk. He looks up from his paperwork when he hears the glass hit his desk, and smirks when he sees it’s you.   
“Fairly easy class today, then?” He reaches for your vial and inspects it, rolling it between his fingers delicately.   
“Oh yes, I finished quite quickly,” you pause, then add, “the potion, I mean to say.” He cocks an eyebrow, and you smile coyly at him, then head for your desk to collect your things.


End file.
